


Workplace Distraction

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Neck Kissing, Other, Spiral!Gerry, and literally nothing else which makes me wonder how this ever got this long, neck biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28979919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: as my wip title suggests: neck kisses > getting work done.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	Workplace Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first thing I ever wrote for the server way back in october or something, and therefore a lot of the...plot?/dialogue is technically ~combined effort~ since I just used the conversation we were having as a guideline.
> 
> But yes! I finally went in and cleaned it up after wanting to do so basically ever since I wrote it....

"Are you certain you don’t want to take a peek at the hallways, Michael?”

Long, sharp fingers spread on the files Michael had been about to pick up from his desk. Michael leaned away from the knifelike points on reflex, blinking in confusion. He had been sure Gerry had left earlier after another circular conversation about how Michael should absolutely step through the oil spill door, look at the hallway. They had both left unsatisfied with the results. Michael had not agreed to open the door. Gerry had left him so confused Michael had taken too long to actually manage to get back to work. He was behind schedule, and the dull headache from their earlier run-in had not quite lifted fully.

When Michael looked up from the still-too-close-for-comfort fingers he was met with a familiar wide, grin, sharp teeth shimmering multicoloured in the light. But somehow, they also looked white and Michael should probably stop staring at those teeth, they were doing little to make him feel more at ease. 

Right, they were talking again, weren’t they? Probably the same old topic. It had been a recurring theme in their conversations ever since Michael did accidentally open the door that should have simply led to one of the storage rooms. Instead, it had gotten him stuck being stalked at work by something with too many edges.

“N-no, thank you. I’m...I’m good!” Michael’s voice went a little higher than he would’ve liked, but it was already hard enough to keep track of what was happening when Gerry was there, much less when it was speaking to him in its strange, distorted voice that seemed to always echo in Michael’s ears. 

Somewhere among all those layers, it sounded like a rather nice voice. It wasn’t the first time Michael caught himself thinking that and he shook his head, dismissing the thought. It would only get him even more distracted. He didn’t think complimenting it would do anything for it leaving him alone.

Gerry’s expression morphed into...Michael thought a pout, maybe, but a rather predatory version of one. Could pouting look predatory? Maybe it was the memory of the teeth. Maybe it was that glint in Gerry’s spiralling eyes. Playful, but very much aware that it had claws while Michael could do little to defend himself against them. 

“I won’t bite.” 

Michael was not reassured by the grin accompanying that sentence, more a show of teeth than anything else. Neither by the light, sing-songy way Gerry said it, every note, feeling like a threat, needles against skin. The least reassuring thing, however, was Gerry’s fingers itching closer. Michael’s eyes were drawn to the movement just in time to shuffle out of range again.

“No, but...but you stab.” He swallowed.

He had no proof for it, but Michael assumed the knifelike fingers were not simply for show. Gerry pursed its lips, drumming its fingers against Michael’s desk. The strange clack-clack noise they made was making Michael’s heart race. He desperately wanted to put more distance between his body and those fingers.

“ _ Only _ if you hurt my feelings.” 

Michael lost trace of the topic at that, looking up with a frown. “Your...your feelings?”

Gerry touched its fingers to its lips in mock-affront. Though most emotions looked like a mockery on its face anyway. “What? Thought I didn’t have those? That’s rather rude of you, Michael.”

Michael really wished it would stop saying his name like that. Thoroughly amused. It made a shiver run down Michael’s spine and he couldn’t even tell whether he felt hot or cold. He felt static. Just like that voice.

Michael felt trapped. He didn’t know why exactly, but there was a certain certainty he felt looking at Gerry like that, eyes nearly overflowing with mischief and delight, ever-moving spirals spinning erratically, that he wouldn’t be able to escape this conversation this time. Not that Michael could ever properly remember how he made it leave all the times  _ before _ . But it didn’t even feel like an option now, not when Gerry was giving him that look, eager to see what he’d say next so Gerry could twist it into something to keep this exchange going. Michael could already feel the beginning of a headache.

Vaguely, Michael wondered if this had been Gerry’s strategy all along. Would it stop if he agreed to walk into those hallways? Would he come out again? Somehow, the question seemed unimportant right now. Which was worrying, but it was worrying somewhere removed from Michael, out of reach. What if he didn’t? Well, he guessed it would still mean Gerry would stop keeping him from work. 

Michael wasn’t entirely sure he could follow his own reasoning anymore, eyes still fixated on Gerry’s slightly shifting face, that grin that made it difficult to think.

“Okay, I’ll...I’ll take a look then.” Michael was getting up from his chair before the words were over his lips and he wasn’t entirely sure what he had just done, but Gerry gave no time for reconsideration, the not-black door creaking open right in front of Michael’s nose. 

Technically, Michael knew that meant he should no longer be able to see Gerry sat on the other side of his desk. He still did. He also saw colours, a lot of them, vaguely contained by a door frame that looked both black and anything but. Should he be seeing the doorframe from up this close? 

Michael stepped through the door before he had an answer to that question, not entirely sure he had meant to do so.

There was a moment of feeling like his brain might burst into many, many tiny pieces before Michael found his balance again, not unlike how he had reacted to Gerry’s voice in the beginning of their...acquaintanceship. As he blinked the confusion away, his surroundings seemed to come into focus - though never quite fully - and Michael found himself, indeed, in a hallway. 

There was a moment of surprise, though he couldn’t tell if it was due to him having expected Gerry’s invitation into the hallway to be a lie or whether it was because the hallway looked rather normal, at first glance. Only when squinting at the wall did Michael notice the maddening patters slithering and floating through the dark grey. The wall was grey in the same way Gerry’s hair was black, which meant that it wasn’t but it also was. Michael stopped himself from thinking too much about it. Trying to make sense of anything related to the Distortion usually ended in a migraine and he still had work to do whenever he got back out. If he ever did.

He looked around, trying to take in the rest of the rather monochrome-but-absolutely-not decor without looking too closely. He felt Gerry’s eyes on him, though he could not remember Gerry being there. He didn’t know where ‘there’ even was until, suddenly, Gerry was right beside him. It stood closer than Michael necessarily was comfortable with, but it just stared, curious, expecting,  _ entertained _ . Michael was unsure if any of what he was doing was warranting such an expression, but he couldn’t take that intense gaze in silence much longer.

“I’ve...taken a look,” he tried. 

“And?” Gerry’s voice seemed to bounce off the walls. Were they moving?

Michael blinked, just as confused by the question as he was by his surroundings. “I-uh...I don’t know?”

“No... _ opinions _ ?” Gerry’s lips were starting to curl downwards, which was distressing because Michael had never seen it and it looked wrong in at least two, possibly more, ways.

He shook his head, not trusting himself with his voice. Opinions? What did Gerry want? Criticism? Michael wasn’t one to criticise others’ interior design choices. Even if they weren’t human. Especially when they had knives for hands.

“No stabbing you, then.” Gerry sounded disappointed, which instantly shut down the brief moment of relief Michael had felt at those words. 

He swallowed and just stood there, frozen, looking at Gerry looking at him, eyeing him like it was considering which spot would be the best to stab should it change his mind. Michael didn’t like it at all. Michael wanted to leave and also look away, but it felt like a very stupid thing to do, not keep an eye on Gerry right now.

“So...what if I bit you instead?”

Maybe the hallway was spinning, or maybe Michael had spaced out fully, because he had no idea what conversation this was part of and all he could do was stare at it, wide-eyed, and utter a shocked, “Ex...excuse me,  _ what? _ ”

Gerry looked incredibly pleased at his aghast expression, its mouth pulling back into a delighted grin. “Just a little bit?”

Michael tried not to think about  _ how _ they got here, and just think of the question itself. He had limited success with that approach. He couldn’t remember ever reading of the Distortion biting any of its victims, nor could he remember Gerry ever hinting...well, Michael actually couldn’t remember most of what Gerry said, so maybe that was the wrong path to take. 

“Bite...me? Are...are you some sort of vampire?” It was a valid question, in Michael’s hazy mind. 

The only beings he had come across that seemed to actually bite were those. And it wasn’t like Michael had any clear idea of what exactly Gerry  _ was _ .

It looked insulted. “Ew. No. What made you think that?”

Michael opened his mouth, but closed it again, shaking his head instead. This was getting ridiculous. Actually, it had probably started getting ridiculous when Michael had agreed to walk through that door. Or maybe before that, when he had decided it would be rude not to answer the questions of the not-quite-human shape that kept appearing in the archive wherever Michael was trying to get work done.

“I don’t want your blood,” Gerry clarified, which was probably, somewhere in Michael’s mind, reassuring to hear. However, what followed was not. “Your skin just looks nice to stab. With my teeth."

Again, Michael just gaped, unsure if Gerry was being serious. Unsure if Gerry even knew what serious was. Unsure where this whole exchange even originated.

There was a little crease starting to appear between Gerry’s brows, a strange contrast to his wide grin. “I won’t try to kill you.”

Michael’s voice shook when he spoke, but he couldn’t take staying silent again with his mind spinning with all the many, many, many things he must have done wrong in his life to lead up to this specific moment, “How...comforting…?”

He was fairly sure it hadn’t meant to be a question when he had opened his mouth. Another moment of silence and scrutiny from Gerry.

“Maybe you’ll like it.”

The implication registered before the words really did, and Michael cursed himself for the moment of consideration he actually put into it. Gerry clearly caught on, grin going a little lopsided.  _ Of course _ it had caught on with Michael’s cheeks already turning red. Michael tried not to think of it. Maybe it was a blush of confusion. He blushed because of many things. It wasn’t the first time in his life he truly wished he could control it, especially with Gerry’s eyes clearly lingering on his burning cheeks. 

Michael probably imagined its voice sounding just a little deeper when it spoke again, “I’ll make it so you enjoy it, too.”

Michael wondered if his heart had started racing just now, or if he just hadn’t noticed the pounding before. He also wondered if his face could get any redder than it already was. Had Gerry been this close before? Had Michael’s mouth felt this dry before?

He swallowed, trying to remember how to form words, though he was fairly sure he did not know which words to say when he opened his mouth. “O...okay. One bite-” His voice sounded wrong in his ears, and he cleared his throat, trying again. “I, I mean...one bite and you’ll leave me be!”

Gerry was definitely closer, Michael had no memory of feeling its….did it breathe? Michael suddenly couldn’t remember ever noticing. Maybe Michael was feeling the static from its voice? Whatever it was, he was feeling something against his ear which he hadn’t a moment before. Probably.

“Deal.” Michael felt its fingers climb up his arm and he didn’t know  _ how _ he knew it was Gerry’s fingers but he did. What he didn’t know was whether it was the voice so close to his ear or the sensation, the  _ knowledge _ , of having knife-tipped digits running up his arms that was making him shiver.

Michael froze as he felt Gerry’s fingers graze his bare skin over his turtleneck collar, his heart skipping a beat at the realisation that Gerry could change its mind about the stabbing any time. He could feel it, the suggestion of something too pointy too close to his throat. Michael didn’t dare to even swallow and screwed his eyes shut in the hopes it would help him keep still while Gerry pulled the collar down. In a distant corner of his mind, Michael was impressed it didn’t feel like Gerry ripped the fabric. But before he could relax about that, Gerry’s voice sounded again, vibrating against his ear. “One bite and I’ll leave you alone. _ For now _ .”

Michael wondered if the amused chuckle was in his head. He didn’t dare to move. He still felt Gerry’s fingers scraping against his skin where it was holding the collar down, could feel its voice against the newly exposed skin of his neck, prickling with static. Gerry was too present next to him, so much denser than any surroundings, and Michael’s mind could not focus on anything else but holding still lest Gerry decided to hurt him. At least Michael was convinced that was the reason.

He felt Gerry’s face get closer and braced himself for the sting of too-sharp teeth - in retrospect Michael was really not sure if those were in any way preferable to being stabbed by those fingers, but it was too late, and the thought was fleeting in the incoherent mess that was his mind. 

He stood still and waited and suddenly he felt  _ something _ against his neck, but it wasn’t sharp. It was soft and it threw him off-balance for a moment. Michael squeezed his eyes shut tighter, afraid of what might happen if he opened them. If he panicked and tried to get away too quickly, would Gerry have its reason to stab him? Maybe. No, he’d hold still.

It took another moment for Michael to realise that what he was feeling against its neck was probably its lips.They skimmed the exposed skin, pressing against it in one spot in what vaguely, somewhere, registered as a kiss in Michael’s mind. He wondered how healthy it was for his heart to be beating even faster. Michael wasn’t sure he had much of a concept of health right now, not when he had knifepoints in the form of fingers  _ and _ teeth so close to his neck. 

The teeth did sink into skin eventually, after a couple more kisses that, Michael thought, had a curious flavour to them, though he did not know what exactly that meant. Michael hissed at the short, sharp pain, hands balling into fists at his side to keep himself from twitching. It wasn’t too bad after the initial pain, really, though Michael wasn’t sure if it was  _ good _ either. 

What mattered was that it didn’t feel scary, it didn’t feel like Gerry was trying to hurt him. There was something slow and careful to it, like it was trying to tell how Michael felt about it. Or maybe it was just trying to get a proper feeling for Michael’s neck. One way or another, it stopped at Michael’s hiss and pulled away - not fully, just so the teeth were out - and started kissing the spot again, lips soothing the lingering ache left by its teeth. 

Michael’s mind was spinning. This wasn’t what he had expected - then again, had he had expectations? That would probably be worrying - and he was feeling too many things he couldn’t name - and probably some he shouldn’t be feeling - at the same time and his face was still burning and his heart still pounding and Gerry kept kissing his neck, even after the pain faded in all the static kisses. 

Michael licked his lips. He should probably move away. One bite. It was over, and Michael’s neck wasn’t hurting anymore, so Gerry didn’t have to kiss it better - hadn’t had to do that in the first place - and Michael should step away. He did wish he would be a little more surprised at the realisation that he didn’t necessarily want this to stop. But Michael knew he should, in the still vaguely coherent corner of his mind. He swallowed.

“I...I need to go...back to work….” He didn’t sound like he meant it, and Michael wasn’t entirely sure he did.

“One more,” it breathed, before kissing the same spot again, teeth scraping gently against already sensitive skin.

Michael shivered and bit his lip. “Okay…”

He didn’t step away when another kiss followed, and another. Gerry kept mumbling ‘one more’ in between and the words were soothing, meaningless when Gerry’s lips felt so good against Michael’s skin and Michael nodded in agreement, a little dazed as he mumbled, “Yes, after this one I will...definitely....I really do have...to…”

The sentence, much like any foggy thought his brain was trying to form, dissolved midway, frayed at the edges, as a sigh escaped his lips when he felt Gerry’s tongue run over the bite. It felt wrong and Michael was unsure what made him think it was its tongue. It didn’t matter. 

Gerry’s lips didn’t feel quite right against his neck, either, but that didn’t mean they didn’t feel  _ good _ . Michael felt like his mind was melting at the sensation, the occasional flicker of tongue or scrape of teeth disassembling his thoughts further and further until he felt like he was floating. 

Michael felt it, distantly, when Gerry’s fingers touched his chin, tilted his head further to the side as its other hand pulled the collar down. Michael barely registered it all before he felt those strange lips on newly exposed skin, gently kissing and sucking and biting, and drawing soft noises from Michael’s lips he scarcely recognised, his voice sounding strange and distant, cotton-like. His eyes were still shut, but no longer painfully so, his hands back to just hanging at his sides. 

Why had they been in fists again? It didn’t matter, not when Gerry tilted his head back gently and skimmed his throat with its lips.

When Michael blinked his eyes open again, he was sitting - or laying, rather - against the hallway wall on the floor, Gerry’s body at a very strange angle over him, basically sitting in his leg in what looked like the most conceivably uncomfortable position to reach the other side of Michael’s neck, which it was now - still? - kissing. Michael didn’t panic, his mind was too soft for that, cotton-stuffed and floating, very gently, just out of his reach. 

He could form enough of a coherent thought, however, for him to wonder how he had landed there. Michael remembered, vaguely, movement, though he could not tell if it had been his or Gerry’s. Maybe he even remembered putting his back to the wall, legs getting a little too unsteady to keep him upright as Gerry continued to kiss and bite at his neck, gently, without breaking skin, the mumbled ‘one more’s dissolving somewhere in Michael’s hazy mind as he nodded and then didn’t do even that because Gerry was holding his chin with its fingers and Michael forgot how to move. 

He blinked again, trying to focus, though part of him still very much didn’t want to. Work. He was at work. Had been, rather. He needed to get back, even if he would maybe much rather feel Gerry’s lips against his skin some more. How long had it been? Time seemed meaningless in these halls. Michael’s neck was static all over, the occasional dull ache making it through it as he moved it slightly.

“I…” He swallowed. “I think that was...enough.” Michael was uncertain if he agreed with himself.

Gerry pulled away after one last, lingering kiss, looked up at Michael with its maddening eyes. It licked its lips and Michael suddenly realised...and the thought was gone. Probably for the better. Michael was fairly sure no good would come from realising anything about its tongue.

“Kissing and biting...are both good,” it mumbled, moving off of him.

Michael didn’t know if he nodded or only thought of nodding, but he was on his feet again, suddenly, and there was an open door beside him. Gerry’s expression was one of interest as it looked at Michael. Maybe pleasant surprise. Maybe anything else under the sun, Michael’s mind was still not fully there, and Gerry’s face had always been difficult to read. But the look made his skin prickle. Not necessarily in a bad way. He should stop thinking.

“I like you,” it said, and Michael didn’t know what they had been talking about to warrant this. Had they been talking? He watched, transfixed, as long, sharp fingers opened the door. “You should visit me again soon.”

Michael didn’t want to agree, but to his frustration, he also didn’t not want to agree. He distracted himself by pulling his collar back up, maybe further than he normally would, just in case. Enough to cover the staticky spots. Though his whole neck felt like that. How long had he been in there? How long had Gerry been kissing his neck?

The knowing grin on Gerry’s face only made his heart start racing again and - had the blushing ever stopped? His face felt uncomfortably warm - before Gerry could say or do anything else that would make more of a mess out of Michael’s mind, Michael stumbled through the door.

Michael had no time to shake off the disoriented feeling when he found himself back in his office. Gertrude was standing at his desk, now eyeing him with her usual piercing glance that usually made Michael straighten up. He was too aware of his turtleneck probably shifting if he did, so instead, he froze, face nearly - actually? - glowing red, eyes still dazed. He could still feel his heart racing.

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. “Are you-”

Michael very desperately did not want to hold a conversation about anything that had just happened with Gertrude right now, or at any point in his life so he very quickly interrupted, “Yes! yeah, I’m- I’m okay, I’m good, I...uhm, if...if you could excuse me for a moment!”

Michael fled the room in enough haste to nearly walk straight into the door. Thankfully, the door to his office was rarely fully closed, so he only needed to push it open and then subtly run down the hall and into the bathroom.

Michael’s hands were shaking as he held them unter cold water but he couldn't even tell which of his whirring thoughts or emotions or whatever was responsible for that. Michael felt like he was experiencing every emotion under the sun at the same time and he felt like about half of them he shouldn't be experiencing at all after what had happened. Or ever. He certainly shouldn't be thinking about Gerrys ‘soon’, because ‘soon’, of course, wasn't going to happen. 

Michael swallowed, bringing his now cool fingers to his burning cheeks. He really couldn't tell if this was a normal shade of red for him to blush as he stared in the mirror. He was deliberately avoiding letting his eyes wander downwards where he was starting to feel the static feeling dissolve, taken over by the familiar ache of a bruise. Or many. His whole neck hurt, really, and the fabric of his turtleneck was scratching against it uncomfortably. He swatted the thought away that was starting to form, the strange disappointment in his stomach at Gerry no longer kissing his neck. No, he didn't already miss it. Michael wouldn't miss it at any point. 

He delicately pulled the turtleneck collar down - taking note of how it, indeed, was still in one piece. The memory of knife-like fingers was still far too vivid in his mind. It made him shiver, and Michael was unsure if it was necessarily a bad kind of shiver. He could still feel the knifepoints against his skin, somehow. They hadn’t left any marks, to his surprise, but the sensation seemed to be burned into his mind. Great.

His neck, on the other hand, was nothing  _ but _ marks. It was a multicoloured mess, covered in what looked to be spiral-shaped...bruises? Bitemarks? From the feeling of it, both. Michael bit back a wimped as he turned his neck. The first bite hurt quite a bit now that the static had faded. It also hurt to look at, since it seemed to be glowing even brighter than some of the others. Why were they glowing? Skin shouldn’t do that. Skin shouldn’t  _ be _ all of these colours, and bruises shouldn’t be perfect little spirals around his neck, but no matter how much Michael stared into the mirror, none of that changed. 

It really had happened. He felt the blush creep back into his face and shook his head before pulling the fabric back up, carefully checking in the mirror so see if he had them all covered up. He didn’t manage. No matter how much he readjusted the turtleneck, one highlighter green spiral - and it wasn’t even one of the smaller ones - right beneath his right ear just refused to stay under the fabric. Actually, maybe it was pink, Michael couldn’t quite tell. He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. Whatever. He needed to get back to work. At least his cheeks didn’t look as flushed anymore. He needed to just not think of it. The spiral hickeys, the feeling of Gerry’s lips against his neck, the ‘soon’ that had nearly sounded like a purr.

It would probably be a much easier feat to achieve if he wouldn’t be hearing faint, distorted cackling echoing in his mind as he left the bathroom. 


End file.
